All in Good Time
by DidosLament
Summary: Sasuke can be a little slow on the uptake. Future!fic Team 7. Lots of speculation, but not really any spoilers.


"_Happiness cannot be pursued; it can only ensue." – Victor Frankl_

For the briefest of moments (1.6 seconds to be exact) the Sixth Hokage was confused.

There, in front of his desk, stood four ANBU wearing what would have been regulation uniforms, if not for the fact that the creatures depicted by their masks were, each one of them, what appeared to be reindeer. To be fair to the Rokudaime's faculties, ANBU masks were supposed to be individual expressions of the otherwise hidden identities behind them (so having four identical ones on a single team was highly unlikely), but for a ninja 1.6 seconds of even the mildest disorientation is an eternity. An eternity that was abruptly curtailed, however, as soon as one additional detail sunk in – the blinking red nose on the masked face of the ANBU furthest to his right, the one with the disheveled yellow hair.

_Ah-ha_. It seemed Konoha's most unpredictable ninja had taken a page out of his own book. How delightful.

With the slightest of smiles he drawled, "Team Uzumaki, you're late."

"And you're slow, Kakashi-sens – Oof!" The pink-haired reindeer to the left of "Rudolph" elbowed him sharply in the side. This was followed by what sounded like a grumbled, "… sama."

"I think what Dobe over there means is that we actually completed the mission early, did we not?"

Hatake Kakashi, the Sixth Hokage of Konoha, suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. "Yes, Sasuke, that's true, but what _I_ mean is that Christmas was two days ago, so you can all take those ridiculous things off." He leaned forward and tapped the desk calendar his feet were currently propped up on with an index finger.

As they came off the masks revealed his three former students (the only ones that he'd ever accepted as genin) and Sai, now as bonded to them as anyone else after the past four years.

"We _know_ that," Naruto groaned, "we just wanted to have a bit of fun since we spent the holiday out killing off the latest group of Akatsuki wannabes." The slight pout on his face confirmed for Kakashi that the reindeer had been his idea.

"Yes, and would you please explain why this was 'fun' again, Dickless?"

Over the years Sai had come to understand human feelings and relationships more fully than most of Konoha would guess. Everyone present knew this. But that didn't stop Sai from occasionally feigning social ignorance or trotting out old nicknames if it would get a rise out of Naruto. And it nearly always did.

Sakura calmly caught Naruto by the collar as he crossed in front of her, bringing him up short just in front of Sai's face and leaving him to hang there at the end of his tether, fuming at his teammate. Kakashi chuckled in the privacy of his mind, mostly at the expression on Sasuke's face – unreadable to most anyone else, but to those in the room clearly conveying a cross between exasperation and boredom. He knew what the Uchiha was thinking and he had to agree.

_If not for Sakura, Naruto and Sai would never have survived their first mission together, much less four years._

At first, Yamato had molded three of them into a team during the desperate search for Sasuke. Sakura, however, was responsible for the continued coherence of the former Team 7, now free agents, but still often heading out together under rotating leadership. It seemed fitting. As their team medic she had a vested interest in keeping them from undoing all her hard work.

Deciding that Sakura had things in hand, as usual, Sasuke began delivering their report. Also as usual, Naruto immediately reigned himself in and got down to business – proof positive of the change wrought in them all, but also the constants. Naruto could now be as calm and efficient a shinobi as any of them, but he and Sasuke would never lose the competitive edge between them.

When the formalities concluded Sakura excused herself immediately, saying she wanted to check in with her division at the hospital before heading home. Naruto shook his head as she disappeared in a whiff of leaves and smoke, "Sakura-chan is crazy."

Kakashi noticed that Sasuke's gaze lingered on the spot where she had been, just fractionally, and that the younger man's brow furrowed a bit.

_Can't you tell yet, Sasuke, that she is stronger than any of us, and not just because of her fists?_

Oh well, it had only been a year or so, and he'd catch up sooner or later. Kakashi just hoped he'd be around to see it.

Duty done, Naruto left to heed the siren call of Ichiraku, lifting his hand in farewell without looking back, and Sai gamely followed. Sasuke brought up the rear, nodding at Kakashi before turning to leave, hands in pockets, looking thoroughly disinterested.

Watching their backs depart through his office door, Kakashi had the rare urge to ditch the desk and the job. Contrary to expectations, he had taken the position quite willingly. After Jiraiya's death and before her own, Tsunade had told the Copy Ninja that she expected him to succeed her.

"_Naruto is too young yet." She paused to throw back a swig of sake, then cast her gaze out the window of the Hokage Tower. "And you're not just a genius at reading and copying the talents of others, but you're damn clever at developing and deploying them too… No, don't speak, just take the frickin' compliment. I know how much of Naruto's ultimate jutsu is owed to you. I expect you'll have to fight him for the job, though…"_

His ninja way had been to value the lives of his teammates above all, only now the whole village was his team and it wasn't just his way, it was his purpose. All of the previous Hokages had given their last full measure in service of Konoha, and Kakashi fully expected he would as well some day. He also expected to do so smiling.

But there were still some times when he missed his former team – not that he would ever admit it – and today seemed to be one of those times. Still, there were lots of drawers in the Hokage's desk, and he'd put them all to good use. He was pretty certain he'd have earned a killer right hook from the Godaime if she knew how many volumes of _Icha Icha_ he'd managed to stash in there. He rooted around a bit, pulled out an old favorite, and casting a wary glance towards Tsunade's face on the Hokage Monument, settled down for some much needed distraction.

----------

Sasuke was not the least bit confused, not for even a nanosecond.

Mildly frustrated, yes, but he knew exactly where the bunch of drunken idiots scattered all over his living room had come from. Two days ago, Naruto had speculated _out loud_ that since Sasuke had all that space to himself in the otherwise deserted Uchiha home _he_ should host the New Year's Eve party for all their friends. Sasuke, even after his repatriation to Konoha, thought that "friends" was rather a strong term to be using in reference to this crowd. Were he more fortunate, the hair-brained idea could have easily been dispatched. But no, Naruto had seen fit to make his suggestion in front of Yamanaka Ino, whose mouth was a veritable force of nature. At that point Sasuke had admitted to himself that a party was inevitable no matter what he thought, which is not to say that he responded with anything other than his trademark "Hn."

In the following 48 hours leading up to the current state of his home (covered in slightly tipsy to completely sauced jounin) Sasuke had done nothing to prepare for his guests. Just because they were coming did not mean he had to like it, and certainly not that he would lift a finger on their behalf. If not for Sakura and her last minute contribution of assorted tid-bits to eat and some mixers for the copious amounts of alcohol that his "guests" kept showing up with, it would have been… well, not a _disaster_, because disasters were what happened when people went haring off after revenge, or power, or a monopoly on war… but it would have certainly not been as much like a proper New Year's party.

Also if not for Sakura, he would have managed to avoid the traditional midnight toast. But no, she had deftly caught him by the elbow as he made for the kitchen, she on her way out with a few last flutes of the bubbly stuff for anyone left wanting. She also managed to slip one into his own hands as a loud, off-key chorus of "Auld Lang Syne" started up.

_What _does_ that mean anyway?_ he wondered, disgruntled, and took a sip of the frivolous drink.

The trace of a smile on Sakura's face as they stood on the periphery of the motley crowd – okay, their friends – stopped the sour expression on its way to his face. She looked… content. And she wasn't looking at him.

As Sasuke pondered just what about a crowd of very drunk people singing badly would make anyone happy, the party slowly slid towards the state that all parties eventually reach. The one worth waiting for, when the chaos is distilled through a long series of goodbyes and goodnights, and those left are those closest to each other. While Sakura patiently ushered Shikamaru, Choji, and a weaving Ino out the door, Kakashi appeared in a puff of smoke, minus the Hokage robes and plus one bottle of very nice sake. Late, but impeccable timing as usual. Sasuke was a bit surprised to feel something like relief, even when Naruto bustled back _in_ after having escorted his beloved Hinata home, stamping the snow off his sandles. He had wondered what the powerful Hyuuga heiress needed protecting for, especially on the way from his house to hers, but Naruto had hotly insisted that it was something about "the gesture" that mattered.

However, after another hour or so of drinking and aimless, honest conversation Sasuke had lost the motivation to question anything anymore. The current Team 7 and their slightly perverted ex-sensei, whom they never really learned to think of has "Hokage," were draped all over the living room and truly relaxing for the first time that evening. Even Sai, although not overly verbal, was pleasantly occupied at the low table in the center of the room, drawing in his sketchbook. The first hours of the new year were whiled away by Kakashi and Naruto re-hashing the climactic battle of the Leaf and Sand forces against Akatsuki, which is to say, Naruto was half-shouting while Kakashi nodded and smiled underneath the mask.

"… and when Sakura-chan sucker-punched Sasuke to get him out of the way of that fish-face Kisame, that was just the coolest! Must have sucked to be you, Bastard, nah?"

Sasuke looked up from the deep contemplation of his living room rug to find Sakura staring at her knees tucked up against her chest, a faint blush on her cheeks. Although she had mastered her own monstrous strength, he'd noticed she never learned to wear it lightly. Maybe it was the sake, maybe it was the late (or obscenely early) hour, or the presence of the only friends he acknowledged, but he found himself responding without thinking…

"Yeah, tough love hurts sometimes, Dobe. That's why they call it that."

Even Sai looked up from his sketch in amazement just as Naruto spewed a mouthful of sake all over. Kakashi's exposed eye widened dramatically. _I always hoped to see it, but I didn't think I'd get a front row seat!_

Meanwhile, Sasuke was wearing what could only be the world's most beautiful frown and trying to untangle all the thoughts that had come loose in his head with the movement of his mouth, and having a hard time of it… She was strong, yes, but not just physically. Yes, she had a temper, but underneath the emotions she wore on her sleeve she was more stable, dependable, and tireless than any of them (when had that happened?) and somehow unintentionally graceful, completely unaware of how she managed to make all of them function like civilized human beings despite their issues, which were many and significant…

"What are you drawing, Sai?" Trust Sakura to smooth over a tense moment.

Sai blinked, once, twice, before answering. "Susano'o."

Naruto was still gaping at Sasuke, but Kakashi, intrigued by the change of topic, prompted Sai, "Why that subject?"

"Well, I read that sometimes artists are inspired by another piece of art. A story, a poem, or another painting. Sakura was kind enough to lend me a book of myths and legends… she said the stories might be inspiring."

"The story of the storm god? Why did you choose that one?" Sakura asked him. She was rapidly recovering from Sasuke's uncharacteristic fit of emotional honesty while Naruto was still working his mouth up and down in an excellent impression of a fish out of water.

"The story seemed…" he looked back and forth to Naruto and Sasuke, and then rested his gaze on Sakura, "… fitting."

She cocked her head to one side, brow furrowed while puzzling that over, trying to dredge up the rest of the details in that particular creation myth.

"Plus, I've seen enough giant snakes that I could sketch out the moment when Susano'o retrieves the sword from the monster's throat without models."

"So it's purely a practical decision, then," Kakashi quipped.

"Perhaps," the artist responded.

From his place at the other side of the table Sasuke craned his neck to peer at the pencil drawing, murmuring appreciatively, but clearly occupied. Sai passed the sketchbook to Kakashi and Sakura on the couch, who both admired the life-like realism of the serpentine demon. Naruto, either because his attention span had run its course, or maybe because like everyone else he sensed the uncomfortable resonance Sai's idle drawing had produced, moved the conversation toward safer topics, more recent missions, and let the broken past they all shared fade away again. Nobody was more thankful than they were that Team 7 had somehow managed to avoid the fate of the Sannin. Still, the means to the end remained a subject better left unspoken, an irreplaceable part of their bond, but not a pretty one. There was no regret, but they did not always like to remember.

Beneath the flow of warm words and gestures they shared well into the night, Sasuke's thoughts kept reaching towards the sword that now lay – unused but powerfully present – in the Uchiha dojo. He had burned his Sound uniform outside the gates of Konoha before entering, with Naruto and Sakura looking on, but the sword of Kusanagi he kept as a reminder. He knew Naruto didn't understand and he knew that Sakura didn't like it. He thought perhaps that Kakashi had an inkling of what it meant to him, for he not only carried the reminder of his hubris within his own body, but he also viewed every day thereafter through its lens. He did not know the myths well, but the half-remembered names and figures kept pushing at his consciousness – Susano'o, Yamata-no-Orochi, Tusikyomi, Amaterasu…

He was only vaguely aware of having followed Sakura into the kitchen to help her clear away some of the mess. She did not bustle around the house as he had half expected, but moved quietly and efficiently. Perhaps that was why he was able to drift away again, sitting at the high kitchen counter, after the others had bid everyone goodnight.

"Can you hand me those, Sasuke?"

Unaware of how far he had slipped away, he looked down, surprised to find he had absently arranged eight of the delicate sake cups in a row. Her gaze was questioning, but unconcerned, so he gently stacked them and passed them towards her where she stood at the sink. Her hair pulled up in a chopstick, the stray strands tucked behind her ears, she went what she was doing, a half smile on her face. She seemed almost as unaware of his presence as he had been of hers for the past few minutes. Why was she doing the dishes anyway? This wasn't her mess. Then again, it wasn't really his either, it was just in his house.

Given the course of the entire evening, it would seem she was doing it because it made her happy. Which is not to say because she wanted to make _him_ happy. In fact, he was pretty sure she knew he hated this kind of thing. But she also knew it was what he needed, whether he liked it or not. She was not just a match for him – she was more than he could ever hope to handle, and if he was brutally honest with himself, it almost scared him…

"How come I didn't see it?"

She looked up with a slightly tired, puzzled look on her face. "See what?"

"I see everything. How did I not notice when you made me love you?"

Sakura gave a little sigh and – disturbingly to Sasuke, because hell if he knew what was going on – now wore a look of complete understanding. "Well, that was pretty slow, Sasuke. Usually you do the turn-around from nice guy to jerk in something less than two hours."

She wasn't angry, but sounded a little bit like she was talking to a temperamental child. The impression was only strengthened by the fact that she was currently up to her elbows in soapy water. Sasuke was perturbed when she calmly returned to the washing. Hadn't he just made a declaration of love? Where were the shining eyes and blazing smile? Was it too much to hope for an "I love you too?"

What was it she wanted to hear? Sasuke thought for a long moment.

"I'm sorry."

_Now_ she looked surprised.

Walking around the lengthy counter to get to where she stood, hands still immersed in the sink, he continued. "I know I apologized to you and Naruto and Kakashi at the time, and I apologized to Konoha in court. But I'm sorry I never thanked you for saving me."

Finally, her eyes were beginning to shine, a precursor to tears, he didn't want to see, so he pried her hands, still dripping with suds, out of the dishwater and held them in his own. She made a little sound of distress at all the dripping, but he shook her a little bit to regain her attention. She still looked like she was about to cry and he hated to admit it, but he had no idea what to do, so he did the only thing there was left and kissed her.

It was awkward, with him holding her hands between them, and she made a startled noise in her throat, but then her eyes closed in acceptance. So it wasn't smooth or particularly dashing, but it conveyed what Sasuke was not eloquent enough to express in words.

_Thank you for saving me, not just then, but every day since. Thank you for making me a whole person again. I'm sorry I couldn't love you because I didn't know how. I promise I'll never leave you like that ever again._

Having said all he needed to say, Sasuke released, hoping she would no longer be on the verge of tears. And she wasn't.

No, Sakura punched him in the arm, leaving a wet spot on his sleeve, and snapped at him, "You're late!" But her eyes were laughing.

----------

AN: Yes, I am aware that these are non-Western people and the holidays and customs described are. Still, New Year's is pretty widely celebrated in East Asia in pretty much the same ways that it is most other places in our increasingly global world, so I've taken some artistic license in what I think is a reasonable way. Besides, I want it to feel the way I feel these events, even if that requires some cultural transposition. I'm sure there are more "Japanese" or "Asian" customs that would evoke similar resonances, but I simply do not have the time (but certainly am not missing the interest) in uncovering them right now. Besides, we're not really clear where/when _Naruto_ takes place anyway, eh?

What do we think of this Sasuke? I've never tried to write him before… Sakura and Kakashi, even Naruto, come much more naturally to me. I suspect that deep down, there's not as much clever going on in his brain as we think. Not that he's not a clever bastard, but I think a lot of the blank looks are just that… his mind wandering. I tried to put myself in mind of a recently divorced man (although whose ex is utterly absent), thinking that might be a close emotional parallel.


End file.
